Wednesday, April 7, 2021

What I Miss About Her

I miss all my departed cats. But I miss them in different ways. I was thinking of Josie yesterday, and how I miss her; not the amount that I miss her - I don’t think that can be calculated - but what I miss about her. She was quite a diverse little creature. When she was young, she was playful. I isolated this one image of her from a video of a play-session she and I had from years ago; as it was in an earlier apartment, before we moved to our house (and then moved out of it), it must have been about 2009. I had tossed my Chubs the ring off a milk jug, and it landed on her face, encompassing her eye. I always chuckle at that image.



Her playfulness isn’t what  miss most about Josie. What I miss most is simply her presence. She created as much work for me as any other of my cats, especially as she grew older and sicker, but there was something mature and stable about her. She was apart from the others - physically, in that she stayed principally in the bedroom during her last couple of years - and this made her seem to be someone I could come to talk to. She didn’t engage in the shenanigans of the others, the ‘youngsters’. This felt like a difference, even though she had her own quirks that could be just as exasperating - and she was only a year older than Tucker and Cammie, anyway.


But relationships are often not just in the concrete, but in the intangible. It felt like she was a partner in managing the Cosy Apartment. It was that way with Tungsten, who really was above the rest of the crowd in terms of authority and behaviour. After Tungsten died, Josie slipped into that role - part of it, anyway - perhaps because she was the surviving one of my first two cats. Being able to spend time with the Great White felt like a conversation with a fellow adult after the children had been put to bed.


Among the many things I miss about Josie’s presence is her presence; the reliability of her being there. Secure in what she perceived as her place in the world, she had put away juvenile things long before, and helped make my world solid with her maturity and intelligence. That is what I miss about Josie. Among the many things.


16 comments:

  1. That top photo of her is so funny; she looks like a British grande dame holding up her monocle.

    People who don't spend time around cats don't realize how strong their individual personalities are, and the different roles they play in the household. My Mac (the Renn lookalike) played the same role as Josie. When he died, even the other cats seemed lost for a while.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I always think of that image of Josie as her wearing a monocle...

      Delete
  2. The photo of Josie's "monocle" is priceless.

    Is there a difference, do you think, between the male and female cats you've shared your life with, in terms of what they've been like overall? I have had only Annie and the three boys, and I always felt a special kinship with Annie, perhaps because she was female and had little use for the boys' nonsense, especially Nicki's. She just seemed more in tune with me, and I've always attributed that to her being female, but perhaps it's just more driven by personality.

    Anyway, Derry is sending soft purrs as you remember--and miss--your Josie. ♥

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I’ve no idea if it is the individual cats I’ve known but the three females who have lived with me for a long time each - Tungsten, Josie and Cammie - seemed to have been more serious, for want of a better word, than the males. The girlcats have been playful but more often at certain times than with a general mood of frivolity. They have also been more prone to irritability (certainly not hostility), though with Josie this became a quality only in old age. It makes them sound as though they were no fun, or didn’t have warmth. That would be untrue. It’s just that I had the feeling that the girls leaned more toward the dour side of felinity than the boys.

      Delete
  3. It's how we remember our cats that make them special and help us keep them in our hearts forever. I found Kea's comment interesting because I've found the reverse. I've found that I've bonded more with my male cats than I have with my females. Joey and Alex are my "velcro cats." Wherever I am, you'll find them, and it was the same way with my Cody, who passed away many years ago and who I still miss terribly.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Josie's visit on July 13, 2020 to the Dr as he sat in his study the evening soon after the train departed with Cammie and Raleigh to their destination told me then of the singular role Josie had in the family. Rather like Robin, the little Tortie here who reared her three human brothers. Her place in the family was acknowledged all of her life and to this moment twenty- two years later. Josie will always be the one- as was Tungsten, to whom your thoughts drift in times of reflection, or in concern for the cats inside, or simply on a fine quiet day. They have distinct personalities. The two of you communicated; a gift for you both.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Your memories will never leave you. She looks so funny in the monocle
    picture. She certainly looked regal in all her photos. Thank you for
    sharing them.

    ReplyDelete
  6. I have loved all the cats I have had, though some feel closer to you than others.Mickey was one and my current cat(Julie) is another. There is hust the two of us now snd she is such a devoted cat that I will miss her terribly when the time comes.She is not a fan of other cats and thinks of me as 'hers' and hers alone.
    Cats are amazing characters.
    Nancy(the'mum')

    ReplyDelete
  7. That photo is adorable. Josie was a special girl.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Scientifically, our atoms move between ourselves and those nearest to us, so a missing loved one means you actually have a tiny bit of your being gone.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I love that photo of Josie and her monocle!

    ReplyDelete
  10. We love that photo. It is something how our friends have such an impact on us. It can feel that one or two are a stable island of predictability in a sea of changing cat behavior. Our Buddy was like that, an anchor. Our feline management chart is just getting settled after over a year. I still think of him every night as his pillow is still next to me on the bed even if Timmy has taken it over.
    When I read your posts they always strike a cord of "That is spot on with what I thought but could not verbalize." I used to chat to Buddy about stress. I always chatted to Timmy just more so now. Josie will always be with you and the Cozy Apartment and that is how it should be.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Timmy's Dad's last paragraph sounded a chord with me, as well as do your writings about your little ones.
    I could easily go into a long blog of my own- and I may do so one day about how the varying personalities of our cats here have woven all our hearts completely together to this moment in time. The cats have very different personalities; and being as deeply loved as they were and are , they returned that love to us along with their council and their companionship. Their well placed nudges were present to keep us in the path best for us on occasion. The cats we are blessed with, each of us, are special , unique and more in a connection with us than we ever realized until they aren't any longer, because they had to leave us.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Your Josie and my Sami were much alike. I think of Sami as my heart cat, not that I don't love all the others including the two that are here now. But she was my stalwart friend and I will always miss her.

    Josie was lucky to find you and you her. Take care, stay well.

    ReplyDelete